A Venerable Heart
by Rosette-Cullen
Summary: Sequal to Worshiping Kismet. Through Edward's rebelious stage he comes to the realization that he needs to see Carlisle again. M, Slash, Carlisle and Edward.


**A/N: After a lot of consideration (and love for Carlisle) I decided that I didn't really have closure for Worshiping Kismet. I don't normally write sequals or second chapters for one shots--save Averse Odium--but I felt like this deserved a little something extra because it was so close to my heart. :)**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the sequal of Worshiping Kismet; _A Venerable Heart_. I think the title is very fitting for this story.**

* * *

"Carlisle," I sighed.

His lips were gentle, much more so than my memory could fabricate. I sighed loudly and I couldn't help the violent tremor that wracked throughout my body. It was primal and rough but I enjoyed it—I wanted more.

So much more.

More of him.

His hands skimmed down my chest and pressed to my hips. I couldn't keep my body still for him; my entire being shook and tilted for him. My eyes welded shut and a noise struck through the air so loud and keening that it nearly startled me.

My back arched and I once again tried to figure out if this was right.

I looked down at him. His gold eyes met my ruby, and he looked at me with desperation. I swallowed hard and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

"Don't leave me again," he whispered.

I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I was helpless to choose right or wrong. My decision was made—he was what I wanted, no matter how selfish it was.

* * *

Perhaps I was a fool for going to a place so far away and so bright. The clouds were scarce in this region and while I was positive my subconscious wanted a place to inhabit while ultimately avoiding light or physical contact, it wasn't in my nature to want to be shut off from fresh air.

My muscles felt like they should be sore from hours of remaining crouched in one spot, but I knew it was only in my head.

It had been four days since I'd moved an inch. When I stood up my muscles groaned a bit. My knees felt locked and the skin there was taught.. I grimaced and mentally noted to move every few hours.

The burn in the back of my throat from the sudden movement nearly killed me. I growled low and loud and my eyes snapped shut. I hated feeding.

While a part of me enjoyed getting out of this small apartment complex in the middle of an Asian town, the majority of me wanted to stay and hide away from facing what I really was—really am.

Most vampires only live for two things.

One would be feeding. We are run by thirst and the thrill of the hunt. The wind running through our hair and the pumping feel of our legs digging into the earth beneath us. And then the wild rush of blood choking over our senses and muting our voices with the rich texture of smooth, unadulterated pleasure of our drink.

I had seen this imagery in my mind a thousand times. Every person would have a different memory of the experience, and my memories had become mixed with theirs.

From the scenes in my head the burn in my throat lit up and worked its way into my chest. I could feel the imaginary heat lighting my body on fire and more images flooded through my head.

My legs shot me off from the floor and to the straight, narrow door. I grabbed onto the rusty knob and tried to turn it as gently as possible. Control had been something I worked on constantly.

I walked quietly and undetected around the small town. Old men with carts passed me by, their thick beards moving slowly with the tobacco lining their gums.

A man behind me thought about a woman he wanted to see on the boulevard. She should be waiting for him and he wanted to see her desperately.

I turned left into a small alleyway and pushed the thoughts of his happiness out of my mind.

I wanted to kill him.

Why should he be so happy and jovial about seeing a woman? Humans didn't know the true meaning of happiness; they only marred it with their want and need and pushed it away with little thought. Why should everyone think they're happy when I'm not?

I pulled my fists back and smashed them into the brick wall in front of me. I growled and hissed while I tried to restrain myself from going after him and slaughtering him. I thought about taking his head and bringing it to the woman.

My jaw clenched and I shook all over with restraint.

_Don't!_ My mind screamed. _Retain some humanity, Edward! For the love of God__, control yourself!_

My fists shook and I pulled them back into my sides. My body calmed when the man's thoughts drifted from my hearing range. I was then consumed by the thoughts of sex and alcohol from the large sweaty man inside a nearby building.

I walked out from the alley and breathed in the night air.

It smelled like smoke and decayed bodies.

I latched onto a stray thought drifting by me. The man was moving quickly, thoughts of fear and satisfaction swimming through his head rapidly.

His mind spoke in a language foreign to my own but I saw the images in his head clearly. He was following a woman with a toddler in her arms. She was blissfully unaware, whispering sweet nothings to the child. The man behind her stepped up his pace and pulled a piece of drapery around his face.

His hand touched her shoulder and I shot off.

He had her pinned against a wall. She was screaming and crying but he put a hand over her mouth. The toddler dropped to the ground and started to cry loudly. The man kicked him in the stomach and the child fell backwards, its head knocking into the pavement.

His hand grabbed her breast and she began to flail wildly. Her mind cried and screamed only for the child on the ground.

I saw him in my own eyes then. He was much taller than her, his hands were holding her skin tightly and he shook her back into the wall.

"_Kesunyian_!" He yelled.

My hand reached toward his body and I latched onto his shoulder. I pulled back with all my strength and I felt the bones snapping like twigs under my fingers.

The woman's mind was in shock, but she kneeled on the ground over the child.

I took the man's throat in my hand and squeezed just enough so he would feel the pain before I sank my teeth into his neck and drew every drop from him as slow as I could manage. His blood was tart and salty, nothing like the Parisian man I'd once come across years ago.

I dropped the body to the ground and savoured the taste in my mouth before I held my breath. I could smell the child's blood clearly; it was sweeter and more appetizing. With the high of my hunt I was sure I couldn't sustain from draining him.

The woman shook the boy gently, cradling him in her arms. I pulled the sides of my shirt up to cover my face. When the woman looked at me I was shaded in her mind. She was scared—terrified—but she knew I had saved her. Her mind went about scenarios of me killing her.

"_Membantu_," she whispered. "_Membantu_!"

Her eyes pleaded with me while she cradled the child. I could hear his heart fading and by the time she screamed for me to help her again he was dead. She screamed loudly, her cry piercing through the air. She thought about the child, distant memories filtering her mind.

Her husband had just died. He had succumbed to a disease and her son was all she had. She thought about his smile and the first time he took a step and the way he would say _ibu _when she would call his name.

I turned on my heel and walked away from the alley. Even though I had just saved her life, she screamed after me. She yelled furiously for me to help her and for me stop and save her son.

"_Raksasa_!" she screamed.

_Monster._

* * *

I stared blankly at the paper in front of me. The printed text let off a very familiar smell. Slow memories slipped into my mind about doing a paper route for extra money on Saturdays and Sundays after church. Hazy visions of my mother smiling at me and patting my head wavered in and out.

I was fixated on the date.

_1931_.

It had been a solid decade on this day since I had left him…

How had I managed to survive? I thought back to all the days that I tried to pass minute by minute and tried to occupy my thoughts on something other than his face, his eyes, his smile.

His touch, his lips, his skin, his mouth, his voice, his words, his breath, his smell, his scent, his love, his hate, his disapproval, his happiness, his sadness.

His everything.

I slid down the wall of the French apartment and brought my legs to my chest. I finally thought about him. I finally let all of the thoughts that had gathered and festered inside my heart and soul unleash and pour out of me.

I shrieked into the air. A ragged, disjointed piercing growl left my throat and I broke down into dry sobs.

I wanted him! It wasn't fair!

_It wasn't fair!_

Why should I be miserable? Why should I suffer and have to roam from one place to another, unhappy and lonely and horrified at what a monster I am?

_No! It's for the best! He's happy with—_

I couldn't think her name. He shouldn't be happy with her. He should be happy with _me_. We should be in our home with our own life and our own _love_.

I _loved_ him.

I _love_ him.

My body wracked itself with pain and confusion and self-torture. I let it all out and I drowned in it without feeling or emotion. I was pathetic, weak, and couldn't provide for him what she could. She was _right_ for him and he could be with her properly and without confusion.

My body stopped convulsing after God knows how long and I just lay there on the floor, completely spent and mentally suicidal. I wanted to die. I wanted to never again know the pain of love and the pain of abandonment. I wanted to be gone from this world knowing that he smiled sometimes while I was drowning—positively drowning—in hurt and pain.

I pulled myself up from the ground and looked at the clock on the wall. Five forty three in the afternoon…

I didn't know the date anymore; I was sure more than a week had passed me by. The burn in my throat was stronger than any other time and I rarely neglected it.

While I yearned to escape the pain and torture of my mind, I couldn't will myself to forget him. He was the only thing that meant more than the world; my life and my love.

I didn't hate him. I couldn't hate him. I loved him wholeheartedly and I always would. The thought of hating him seized my heart and clutched at it with greedy fingers. My whole body rejected the thought and screamed at me to repent for my blasphemous thought.

And so to repent to myself—the only person that cared for my own physical wellbeing—I walked to the small ferry across town and boarded my way to a small dock in Spain before I set off for New York.

* * *

It had taken me little over a week to return to my childhood residence. I ran from New York to Chicago where I found my former human home and found that the house had become an antique shop. I came across something that smelled like cinnamon and apricot. The shop owner told the former owner's wife owned the bracelet and I bought it from him.

My mother's scent hung around me as I ran through the forests and stopped for nothing besides harmless does and bucks. Some part of my mind knew Carlisle wouldn't care what my diet had been turned into, but I just wanted to please him. My eye colour wouldn't change for months and I'd have to endure it.

Carlisle had changed location to a small residence in Canada. The house wasn't at all in his taste; the windows were too large and the river before it was well manicured and hedged in proportionate angles.

They were happy here…

I saw two clean-looking cars in the driveway. One was white and had _Pontiac_ in clean gold letters across the side; the other was black and had _Austin 14/6 _in silver letters. He was doing well for himself; these models were new, fresh off the assembly line.

The front door slammed open and the glass shattered to pieces as it swung against the house. The wood splintered and flew off in different directions.

He was standing there.

God, he was gorgeous.

His gold eyes were wide and his mouth was a bit slack, just enough so I could see his teeth behind his white lips. His gaze met mine and I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to restrain myself from flying at him.

It had been too long.

"Edward?" he breathed.

His hand dropped away from the door and he took a small step forward. His blonde hair hung forward carelessly and I wanted to run my hands through it. He looked so much the same, but at the same time I knew he was different. On the inside he was changed.

I smiled at him and rocked back on my heels, trying desperately not to break down. He took one more step forward and then he bolted from the porch and ran to me.

His arms wrapped around me and my head was level with his shoulder. My arms wound around his waist and I held him to me, probably much tighter than necessary.

—No, this was more than necessary. I had gone so long without him. I needed his touch.

His scent permeated every crevice of my body and I sagged into him a bit. I could have cried then and there. Our reunion was something I'd thought about for a full decade. It was unreal the way his hands touched me and the way his arms pushed me into his strong chest.

I couldn't stop my arms from pushing him closer, my face from burying into the crook of his neck. I inhaled and clung to him for dear life.

All the pain and confusion and hurt were now like a wound covered with a scab. It could be ripped off and start a whole new round of pain and bleeding. Or maybe—just maybe—it could leave only a scar that would never heal, but perhaps one day would be forgotten.

I hoped and prayed for this as we held each other, each with a different meaning and thought. I didn't intrude on his mind. I caught brief glimpses of surprise and happiness, but I knew I was better off focusing on the sounds of a waterfall a mile off.

I heard soft footfalls hitting the earth and then I could hear her thoughts.

She was thinking of Carlisle—of course—and she felt shy about maybe asking for a repeat of last night. My body stiffened at the images and Carlisle noticed.

I swallowed as he pulled away from me, his eyes gazing down at me questioningly.

"Your wife is coming," I answered quietly.

He put a hand on my shoulder and I felt my stomach begin to sink in despair. Esme approached from the forest side with her shoes in one hand and a smear of blood on her left cheek.

Her eyes widened and she grinned widely at me. Her petite body launched at mine and she nearly tackled me to the ground. Her control was lacking, and I'd have thought Carlisle could teach her by now.

"Edward!"

"Hello, Esme," I murmured.

"I'm so glad you're back! Carlisle told me that you needed to do some traveling for a time, but I missed you dearly!"

"Traveling… I have traveled, all around the world in fact."

She began with a thousand questions; where I had gone and where I had been and how long. Did I meet anyone interesting? Human or vampire? Why were my eyes red, did I slip up? No, I couldn't bear to attach myself to Carlisle in any way for years. I told her I slipped up and then I had a bout of rebelliousness.

She frowned and smoothed my matted hair down with motherly affection. My insides clenched and turned violently. I wished I hated her. I wished she would go away and maybe find someone else with whom she could still be happy.

I was jealous of her…

Carlisle sat in a chair across from us. He didn't say a word, but his mind's eye was focused on me. I was sallow and unkempt in his gaze. He saw the sadness in my eyes and the limpness in my smile and he felt guilt mount upon him.

Hours passed in chatter and talk into the early hours of the morning. Carlisle was still playing doctor in the city and left around six.

I saw him off with Esme, turning my head to examine the petunias in the corner garden when she kissed him goodbye. I imagined me in her place and I felt even more selfish.

He drove off and I watched his car the entire way down the drive. My body sunk in on itself a bit when he was gone. Esme enthusiastically called me into the house.

We marched upstairs and she gave a few things of Carlisle's to put on after I bathed. It had been weeks since I washed myself properly. I had relied on the rain when I ran, drying myself with the wind.

I smelled just like him when I was done, and I smiled a bit, something I hadn't done in years. I could have cried in that moment. He wasn't even here and I felt unbelievable happiness and relief.

My mother's bracelet fell from the pocket of my destroyed pants and I picked it up carefully with my fingers. The chain was thick and kept in mint condition. I looked at the small, feminine piece of jewelry and twisted it around.

"That's beautiful."

I looked up at the doorway and Esme was standing there, more clothing in her hands. Her eyes were set on the bracelet in my hand. She set the folded pants and shirts on the small wash stand and set them in neat stacks.

"It was my mother's," I murmured.

_His mothers…? _Her mind was puzzled._ She must have been important for him to carry it around __with him, then._

"Indeed," I answered.

"Oh! I forgot what you can do." She laughed a bit. "You mother had beautiful taste in jewelry."

I looked at the woman in front of me and took in her completely mild thoughts that swam in and out of my head, realizing exactly what Carlisle saw in her.

She was just so kind and gentle that there was no one who could hate her. She was passionate in all she did and her smile really did light up a room. It made me all the more jealous.

I walked forward and picked up her hand in mine. Her wrist was small and delicate while I slipped the cool metal over her knuckles and down to the top of her forearm. I took a step backwards and examined the piece on her.

"It looks fantastic on you." I smiled.

She smiled back a little shyly. "Thank you, Edward."

"I'd like you to have it."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly—"

"Please, you remind me so much of my mother. Even though the memories are slowly fading, I can still tell my mother was just as kind as you. Nothing would make me happier—" my heart seized, "—than if you would accept it."

She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me close to her small body. "Of course, Edward, of course. Thank you so much, this means the most to me," she whispered.

I placed my hands on her waist and looked at a photograph of her and Carlisle that sat in a small frame. He was smiling and one of my fears finally came true.

He had been smiling while I died a little every day.

* * *

There are two things a vampire lives for.

One is for the thrill of the hunt, the satisfying drench of blood and the flood of victory that invades one's system.

The second is for their mate.

Every vampire lives for murder or for life.

Carlisle had a choice. He could choose between taboo or what was right.

He chose what was right.

I was a young newborn then, physically seventeen and mentally twenty. He was over two hundred and I worshiped him.

I had worshiped my downfall.

I had worshiped disaster.

My heart broke for him every time I saw his eyes gaze sightlessly out of a window, or when his mind would stop and he'd think of every moment of loneliness that had driven him to this point. I was so selfish, so self-centred that I couldn't handle all this time in loneliness. But the time spent away from him was like a century of pure torture.

My mind had ceased to reason anymore. So maybe when Esme left for town to get me my own belongings I realized that this might be the only opportunity I would have to see—just see—if this was right.

Carlisle was in his study, going through some papers from the hospital. I leaned in the doorway and he looked up at me. He had been expecting me, almost hoping for me to come to him. Of course I would.

"Edward," he murmured.

I walked to him, around his desk and right in front of him. My body was on fire and being near him was just adding gasoline to it. My hands shook, wanting nothing more than to pull him closer, igniting a roaring fury that would engulf us both.

And then it happened.

Beautiful and quick and painfully right.

I saw his mind turn to the first time we'd been together, the look of passion and heat mixed with his love and mine. Our eyes connected and for a second we both hesitated before reaching out and pulling the other closer. Our bodies clashed together and the buttons of our shirts cracked and shattered into pieces between us.

His lips were soft and coaxed mine open without waiting. His tongue was on my lips and he did beautiful things that made me want to weep and scream for him.

Hands were lost in a flurry of movement and feeling. Mine were in his hair, on his back, ripping his shirt from his body and then on his skin. His were all over, pulling my legs down so I straddled his lap and we were completely parallel together on top and perpendicular on the bottom.

I could feel him against my thigh, beautifully stiff and hard. I could feel myself against his stomach and I pushed into him.

Our hair mixed in a bronze and blonde mess. His eyes cracked open and so did mine. Our eyes locked in our passion, his gold ones matching his light hair and my dark crimson matching mine. His mind was a hazy, lusty mess and he kept screaming that he loved me and I could feel the guilt coming from him when he thought of Esme's happy face.

I pushed myself against him harder and he responded immediately. All the thoughts of guilt, of Esme, and wondering where this was going in the end were pushed away.

"Edward," he whispered against my lips.

"Carlisle," I sighed.

His lips were gentle, much more so than my memory could fabricate. I sighed loudly and I couldn't help the violent tremor that wracked throughout my body. It was primal and rough but I enjoyed it—I wanted more

So much more.

More of him.

His hands skimmed down my chest and pressed to my hips. I couldn't keep my body still for him; my entire being shook and tilted for him. My eyes welded shut and a noise struck through the air so loud and keening that it nearly startled me.

My back arched and I once again tried to figure out if this was right.

I looked down at him. His gold eyes met my ruby, and he looked at me with desperation.. I swallowed hard and my heart felt like it was breaking all over.

"Don't leave me again," he whispered.

I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I was helpless to choose right or wrong. My decision was made—he was what I wanted, no matter how selfish it was.

"I won't."

"Ever.

"I won't leave you ever," I vowed.

"I love you, Edward." He looked me in the eye and I didn't have it in me to think of the consequences. That's what love is about; clumsiness and stupidity.

"I love you, Carlisle. I love you," I choked out.

He was standing up then and I was wrapped in his arms, my weight nothing while he kissed and nipped at my neck. He brought me to his room, and the large four poster bed reminded me of the one we'd first made love on. I knew it was here as a symbol of something, but I couldn't bring myself to think of it. The only important thing was that I was here with him.

I was on my back in a second and he crawled over me, his lips more demanding now. I pulled him closer to me with force and want. The need to have him was stifling me into physical actions without my subconscious fooling with my mind.

We tore at each other; our clothes were nothing in our path. Carlisle's clothing was gone first and I pushed him onto his back while my pants hung torn across my hips.

Carlisle grabbed my neck and yanked me upwards so our lips connected. My hands skimmed across his chest and down his stomach while I felt every indent and line. His erection touched the palm of my hand I wrapped around him instantly.

He moaned into my mouth loudly and we panted in unison. I stroked his thick erection firmly and I began to kiss my way down his neck and chest down to where my hand was working in even beats.

Kissing the hair of his naval, I pulled my lips down and engulfed him in my mouth. I pulled my lips over my teeth like he'd taught me and began to move in an easy, familiar rhythm. His strong hands moved into my hair and he held the top of my head while his hips moved up and down to set a pace he enjoyed.

"Oh, Edward… so good," he moaned.

His hands pulled at my head and I sat up, already knowing the thoughts in his mind. My pants were shredded on the floor and I was lying on my back with him above me.

It had been so long…

So long since we'd made our beautiful melody.

Our lips touched gently, so gently that they barely brushed and I could feel the love there so I pushed everything I had into him.

Carlisle put my legs over his forearms and I spread my legs while he pushed in slowly. The sensation that I loved the most wracked my body and I growled into the air. His hand fisted my erection and he worked it in an even pace.

Lips on lips, skin slapping skin, whispered words colliding against each other and the sounds of our tender copulation filled the room fully.

My hand joined his and we worked in harmony. His hips pushed into me and he picked up his speed, his body tensing and releasing all at the same time. I could feel the pressure in my stomach, knowing that this time the feeling wasn't pain or remorse; it was _Carlisle_.

Him and me.

Us.

I smiled at him through the haze of my orgasm and he smiled back. My eyes wanted to close and I panted out loud before a growl ripped from my throat and my cum flew out onto my chest and stomach.

Carlisle kept moving, his body pressed to mine and he moaned loudly, his body arching and seizing and I could feel him filling me.

So I laughed.

Honestly laughed with triumph and happiness.

"I love you, Carlisle," I nearly giggled in my overwhelming relief.

He smiled back at me, his eyes somewhat drooping when he pulled out from me. "As do I."

* * *

"I—I'm not an idiot."

I looked up from my book and saw Esme standing in the doorway. She bit her lip and her eyes were darker than normal. Her mind was racing and I couldn't grasp what she was worried about. Her mind had been like this for a while.

"I know that, Esme. I never assumed you were," I answered back.

"Then don't… don't act like nothing is going on." Her eyes narrowed a bit; not in anger or accusation, but hurt.

"Esme—"

"I know what's going on, Edward. I've known since I came home last week. I know about you and Carlisle before he found me, too."

I closed my book and set it on the table, standing up from my seat and looking her in the eye.

"That's right," I murmured.

Her eyes closed briefly and she took in a shaky breath. "He's my husband…"

"Indeed he is, and he loves you dearly," I answered. "He thinks of you often and fondly, Esme."

"Then why is he—"

"With me? I—I can't really answer that, Esme. He saved me from certain death and was my only companion in a world of murder and blood and greed. I love him, I will tell you that."

"Oh God…" she whispered. Her mind raced with thoughts of him leaving her.

"Don't! No, please, I just—I know what I have to do now." I took a deep breath. "I vowed to Carlisle I wouldn't leave him. I can't break my word with him. But I know that he loves you and he wouldn't leave you, and you wouldn't leave him—you shouldn't. I love Carlisle, but his happiness and his… accessibility in this life is what matters most to me."

"Edward…"

"No, I've realized something. As long as I'm close to him, I'll survive. All I've wanted is his love, and I have it. He has mine and I have his, and it shouldn't matter what form it's in, as long as he loves me."

"You can't mean… you can't mean you'd give it all up? Do you?"

"I do."

"Oh, Edward!" She ran forward and I embraced her.

She sobbed dryly into my chest, thanking me for something that I shouldn't be thanked for. I smiled to myself and held her closer, letting her cry out her relief and worry.

And though I'd experienced so much grief and regret, I could finally see myself content. Maybe not happy to my full extent, but I would have a family. The only thing I could ever hope for was their love and acceptance.

* * *

**A/N:**

_Kesunyian - Silence * __Membantu - Help * __Ibu - Mother * __Rakasa - Monster_


End file.
